Only the Beginning
by FantaC
Summary: When Hannibal escapes, he gets a bit more than he bargained for.
1. The Escape

Disclaimer: Certain characters and events are "borrowed" from Red Dragon and SOTL by Thomas Harris. As for the rest, I plead "guilty" or should it be a plea of insanity? You decide. Due to the premise of the story, there is no Clarice Starling, but don't let that stop you. There is someone else from Lecter's past you will be meeting.

Author's note: The story takes place during SOTL after Lecter escapes. It follows the novel canon with some of my own deviations. This is my first fanfiction; in fact, it's the first story I've written since I was a teen, which was quite a few years ago. My head's off....er, hat's off to all of you writers of fanfiction; you've given me so much enjoyment. I want to dedicate this first story to Guber who has been a real encouragement, help and friend, and give special thanks to my friend Richard for his proofreading skills.

****

Only the Beginning

Part One - The Escape

Latisha Anderson breathed heavily as she stopped by the high, chain-link fence that surrounded the grounds of the elementary school her best friend attended. She had run the two blocks from the newstand to share the news she knew Sadie would want to know right away. The high school, where she was a Junior, let out 15 minutes before Sadie's school so Latisha leaned against the fence and waited, her dark brown eyes scanning the concrete schoolyard and the double doors where, any minute, a stampede of students would be emerging from the large, two-story, brown brick building.

Latisha could see her breath in the cold air. The weather was typical for February - cold, damp, with dirty patches of snow lining the city's streets and sidewalks. But it wasn't a typical day, not after what she had found out!

Latisha thought about the newspaper, if one could call it that, that she had purchased on the way here. It was in her bookbag, now dangling from her hand. Twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays, Latisha bought the Tattler for her friend. It was an arrangement that became established only two weeks after they were introduced, six months ago, through a program the schools had put together. The program called for volunteers, from the high school, to be a mentor, friend or big brother/sister to elementary students. There were requirements: no drugs, no gang affiliations, no trouble with the law, no bad rep and the volunteer must be a good student. Having two older brothers, James and Jordan, Latisha thought this would be fun - she had always wanted a sister.

That is how she met Mercedes Anne Jones. They quickly became close, good friends. It was indeed fun knowing her "sister." The Home Director, Miss Jenkins, always called her Mercy, which she hated. Sadie lived in an orphanage - The Children's Home of Chicago.

A loud bell interrupted Latisha's thoughts. It was five minutes before she saw Sadie leaving the school in a too large, red coat with the hood up but untied. Sadie immediately spotted her and began quickly walking towards her. Latisha was not allowed to go beyond the fence.

When Sadie was only a few feet away, Latisha exclaimed, "He's escaped! He's escaped!"

"Growler?" asked Sadie referring to Latisha's Rottweiler. The big, black dog looked menacing, growled a lot (hence his name), but would probably either roll over, in hopes of having his tummy scratched, or lick an intruder to death were such a thing possible. Definitely a case of a wolf in sheep's clothing in reverse! Growler also had a habit of getting loose and roaming the streets - Prowler would have been another appropriate name for him.

"With all that's been going on, he could easily be shot!" Sadie continued with concern causing red-violet lights to shine in her deep purple eyes. An outbreak of thefts, in the area, made people a little jumpy and trigger-happy. "I'll help you look for him."

"I'm not talking about Growler," her friend said as she reached in her bookbag for the paper. As she handed the Tattler to Sadie, Latisha added, "It's Lecter!"

Sadie eagerly took the paper and walked over to a long, dark green bench that was at the side of the road - it was one of many bus stops that lined the streets.

"This is so exciting! That means the other papers will have the story too."

"I was planning on getting the Trib and SunTimes for you later," Latisha sat across from Sadie on the bench.

"Thanks."

The Tattler was Sadie's favorite paper only because the other papers didn't carry any Lecter news in them, for a lack of any new developments. The Tattler wasn't so neglectful, though Sadie thought that much that was written was fictional or conjecture. She was so hungry for any mention of the notorious Dr. Hannibal Lecter, serial killer of at least nine, and cannibal, that she settled on clipping and saving articles from the Tattler.

Sadie was so grateful for Latisha's help in getting the tabloid for her. There weren't many financial opportunities for an almost-eight year old, especially with the short leash Miss Jenkins kept on her. She might as well have been incarcerated herself! Hopefully, not for much longer; at least one of them was free!

This was front page news and sure enough, there on the front page in large, bold letters, the headlines read:

****

Lecter Escapes, Killing Four!

Still At Large!

Sadie quickly read the story of how Lecter was transferred to Memphis to speak to Senator Martin concerning her daughter, Catherine, who had been abducted by the serial killer Buffalo Bill, who skins his victims. Sadie thought there was a significance in the fact that all the killer's victims were tall, heavy-built women. What was he doing with the skins? Sadie put aside her speculations in order to concentrate on the news.

Senator Martin was willing to cut a deal with Lecter if he would give information that would lead to the rescue of her daughter. Dr. Frederick Chilton, administrator of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, where Lecter had been incarcerated for eight years, led her to believe in this possibility. It was unclear how Chilton had known of Lecter's knowledge about Buffalo Bill, but in light of the events that took place after his arrival in Tennessee, that was glossed over by the paper.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the doctor gave information to F.B.I. agent Will Graham that helped in solving the case of another serial killer, known as the Tooth Fairy.

"Who comes up with these names?" Sadie thought as she briefly pondered the situation. The help Lecter gave came as a two-edged sword: aiding in the case and cutting up Will Graham's face in the bargain. Lecter had also helped the killer, identified as Frances Dolarhyde, by giving him information: Graham's home address. As a result, directly and indirectly, Lecter had Will cut up twice. The first time happened after Graham realized Dr. Lecter was the killer he had been looking for.

Latisha sat quietly, knowing how her friend liked to absorb and process information. She was fascinated by this. The conclusions Sadie reached were amazing in their accuracy.

Sadie reached the part where the doctor had killed two police officers: Boyle and Pembry. Lecter got away in an ambulance, identity mistaken for Pembry's because he had on his uniform and part of his face too. Pembry's body was found, later, on the top of an elevator. In the meantime, the ambulance never made it to the hospital.

Sadie silently put the paper in her backpack, carefully putting it between the lining so it wouldn't be found. Anything concerning Lecter, cannibals or serial killers was taken from her. In fact, her favorite t-shirt, which she decorated at school, read, "Don't say, 'Bite me,' a cannibal may be listening." Miss Jenkins was waiting at the door, which suggested that her teacher had informed her of the shirt. It was confiscated and discarded so when Sadie made another one, this time in Latisha's room, she kept it well hidden along with the album filled with articles about Dr. Hannibal Lecter. She even made a new shirt that read, "Got people?" a cannibalistic take on the popular ad "Got Milk?" They both stood up and started walking.

"He was very clever in how he got away. Gory, but clever." Sadie was thoughtful about all that she had read. "I need to get on a computer to look up some things."

"You're going to try to find him." It wasn't a question, Latisha knew how much her friend wanted an opportunity to meet the doctor. She also believed Sadie would have a good chance of succeeding in her quest, the only thing she was uncertain of was what would Sadie do when she found him and what would he do to her?!

As if sensing her friend's thoughts, Sadie said, "As far as I know, he's never harmed any women, except that nurse, or children. He's also not a sexual deviant so I should be safe. Whether or not he'd be willing to take a paternity test or have me stay with him is another story."

"I know you, girl. You bawled your head off when my hamster died," Latisha began.

"What about the roast?"

"That was already dead when you got a hold of it," Latisha reminded her.

"You know it was all for fun, I'm not planning on following 'in my father's footsteps,' if he is indeed that. There's a lot more to him anyway. He plays a lot of instruments and does superb drawings. He's a genius, very perceptive and understanding...."

"I'm sure his victims thought that. You can say some of the same things about Hitler. Don't forget his cooking talents and the ingredients he sometimes uses. This is a man who uses knives and other things to get his point across." Latisha groaned, "Listen to me, you're rubbing off on me, girl."

"You've always listened and even helped me in the past. Now I need your help even more and it sounds like you're against this whole thing." Sadie looked up to try to prevent the tears from falling down her face.

"Lecter was safely locked up at the time. With him loose, I'm really scared. Scared for you."

"I could be the best thing for him."

"Yeah, like a spin-off on your shirt....people does the body good! Or maybe you could help him get 'in touch with his feminine side.' Are you crying?" Latisha stopped and looked down at Sadie who only came up to her chest.

"This is so annoying!" Sadie angrily wiped her eyes and face with the sleeve of her coat. "What do you think he'll think about this annoying tendency of mine to cry over the most stupid things?"

Latisha briefly hugged her friend and said, "My hamster was not a stupid thing and remember, I cry during some movies too." 

"During Bambi?"

"I think it's one of your more endearing traits and girl, you've got a lot of them. In fact, if Dr. Lecter has any sense of humor, I'm sure he'd enjoy having you around.....alive!"

"So I'd have to be Sheherazade to survive?" Sadie sniffed but smiled when she saw her friend's blank look at this question. "Long story. Thank God, I don't ever cry around Miss Jenkins."

"You're usually too angry or full of mischief to. I'll say this, Miss Jenkins sure has a stick up her ass! Makes her mean. Now, there's someone with no sense of humor."

They continued to walk, ignoring the traffic, and everything else around them. The buildings they passed were so close that you could shake your neighbor's hand if the windows were open.

"She sure didn't appreciate my creativity with last week's roast. Gourmet cooks do all kinds of creative things with food like cutting vegetables to look like flowers or animals. I'm sure the doctor has done similar things."

"Yeah, in his case, he did.....to a person! And I'm sure that gourmet cooks don't 'doctor' the roast to portray the 'Wound Man,'" chided Latisha, chuckling at the memory.

"Well, he is a doctor who cooks," Sadie laughed. At that moment, she pictured an operating room with Dr. Lecter in a surgical mask with a nurse and two assistants.

"Scalpel....spatula," the doctor ordered, "Oh, nurse, heat up the butter, if you please."

As a sizzling sound could be heard, one of the assistants asked, "What will it be today, doctor?"

"I think a salmagundi would be good. Variety is the spice of life."

Sadie felt much better. The situation was serious enough. As far as Sadie could tell, Dr. Hannibal Lecter didn't know about her, but she was hoping that his escape would provide better opportunities to remedy that. Her two letters to the doctor hadn't produced any results. The Tattler said he corresponded with a number of people, was even published in psychiatric journals and cookbooks. Either he never received the mail or didn't take her seriously. She had been five years old when she wrote the letters and sent them to Baltimore. Sadie didn't want to be a pest, so when she didn't receive anything in return, she stopped the letter campaign. She knew they weren't intercepted by Miss Jenkins because she had "obtained" a post office box for that very purpose. Sadie was able to keep it for a year until a closer look at the financial records showed a certain post office box that was being financed by CHC. That resulted in stronger locks and bars on the windows of the office. Thankfully, Miss Jenkins didn't realize that all Sadie needed was a computer with a modem, and better yet, with internet access. She could get around the 'security measures' electronically from another building - usually the library. The password had even remained the same, two years later.

It was mainly through a 'visit' to the main office at CHC, when Sadie was 5, that she became privy to information in her file. She learned her mother's name was Rachel, who delivered and abandoned her at the Community Memorial Hospital. Her mother didn't even give her a name. A nurse, who had a hankering for a luxury car, named her. Rachel had taken advantage of the three-day window of opportunity, the state gave mothers who did not want their babies. Within three days of birth, a mother can drop off her newborn at a church, hospital, police or fire station, with no legal consequences for her choice. This was passed in the hopes of decreasing the number of babies being found in trash cans or dying of exposure in alleys; for that a mother can be punished. In Sadie's case, Rachel had delivered her then left the hospital the next day. When questioned, the attending nurse was only able to provide the absent mother's first name.

As a result, after reading the file, Sadie focused her attention on finding her father. As far as she was concerned, Lecter was it! Of course, Sadie didn't just randomly pick him. She had given the matter extensive thought and research. In fact, there was another, less-likely candidate: Peter Daniels, an accountant who resided in Michigan. The timing and circumstances fit Lecter much better. Her age put her conception prior to the Lecter trial and his subsequent life sentence to be served in Baltimore. Sadie imagined that was probably why her mother abandoned her - it made sense. Daniels was married to Sarah, had two children and a history of infidelity. 

In addition, there was the speculation, the overheard conversations and even comments made to her face. Sadie enjoyed encouraging and reinforcing those opinions that she may be Lecter's daughter. It had kept her an orphan, in the system, the same system that had held Dr. Lecter. The pleasure she took in identifying with Lecter sometimes caused problems, especially with her tormentor Miss Jenkins, who went out of her way to keep Sadie "in line." That, of course, made Sadie want to have even more "fun."

They both stopped at the corner, knowing that this is where they'd be going their own separate ways. 

"Latisha," Sadie said as she removed her white, left mitten, "Would you have your mother clear things with Miss Jenkins for a weekend visit with your family?"

Latisha took off her blue, left glove, which matched her coat, answering, "Sure. Just don't go playing with the food so you won't get grounded again. Now give me five with interest." Her hand met a six-fingered hand in the air.


	2. The Letters

****

Only the Beginning

Part Two - The Letters

The room-service waiter, of St. Louis' elegant Marcus Hotel, was nervous as he knocked on the door of Suite 91. The man creeped him out. Oh, Lloyd Wyman was polite and even tipped generously, which was the only reason why he continued to serve this particular guest, but there was something about this guy that made him feel like he was in the crosshairs of someone's rifle.

Travis heard classical music coming from the room and loud laughter, which abruptly ceased after his knock. He called out, in the prescribed manner, "Room service."

Dr. Hannibal Lecter came to the door and looked at the young man who was wearing a liberal amount of a ghastly, cheap cologne....Old Spice, if he wasn't mistaken, and decided that he didn't want that smell lingering in his room. He quickly took hold of the cart with his dinner and told the waiter, "Wait here while I get your tip," and wheeled it into his room.

Travis stood there wondering, why the break in the routine? Dr. Lecter came back with the tip and when Travis reached out to take it, Lecter held it out of reach and said, "Another tip for you, Travis. You could very well instigate an allergic reaction in individuals sensitive to perfumes and colognes or cause an asthma attack in others. Enhancement and subtlety are the key in such matters. I suggest that you find it." With that, Hannibal handed the waiter a ten-dollar bill and shut the door. With a red face, Travis quickly went to find a bathroom to rid himself of the cologne he had put on thinking to impress the female guests of the hotel.

Lecter smiled as he set the dishes on a table by a window, giving him a view of the sun setting beyond distant trees. He breathed in the delicious aromas, much better than that slop they called food that was served at the institute. With Bach playing in the background, the food and wine, the view, and the two, very interesting letters Barney had given him right before he had left Baltimore....yes, Barney had been especially helpful in that regard. Lecter enjoyed his meal, recalling his last day in Baltimore.....

"Dr. Lecter?" Barney, an orderly at the institute, approached the last cell with the Plexiglas covering the bars. Hannibal was sitting in his bolted-down chair sketching when the large, black man made his way toward him.

"Yes, Barney?" Lecter looked up, sensing Barney's emotions: excitement, discovery, trepidation, curiosity....hmmm, quite a mixture.

"I was cleaning and organizing supplies in a closet that hasn't been used in awhile when I found a canvas bag in the back of it, underneath old linens. I discovered a few old psychiatric journals dating back three years and some unopened mail addressed to you."

"You obviously discovered more than just that," Lecter's maroon eyes grew redder as his interest was piqued. 

"Dr. Chilton will be down here any minute to have you transported to the plane taking you to Memphis, but after seeing the contents of these two letters..." began Barney, who hastily added, "Not that I read all of the contents. You know I have to check the mail, but I really think you should see these."

"Yes, Barney, I am well aware of the security procedures. There is no need to apologize. Three years....yes, I believe that was one of the occasions Dr. Chilton decided to punish me by taking away my mail privileges." Hannibal was now standing, head cocked slightly to the side, "I do believe we have company, Barney."

Knowing how Lecter's senses were much more finely-tuned than his or anyone else's, for that matter, Barney didn't waste time but quickly put the opened letters, still in their envelopes, in the metal carrier and pushed it into the cell. Hannibal removed the letters from the carrier and tucked them in at his waist, smoothing them down.

There had been no opportunity to read them since he was soon strapped to a gurney and remained that way for the entire flight and during the meeting with Senator Martin until he was placed in a cell afterwards. Then he was a bit preoccupied with his escape. Yes, that had gone so well. All that time waiting, making his "special key" out of the metal tube in the pen Dr. Chilton had so thoughtfully or carelessly, as some might say, provided him, and letting Dr. Chilton "overhear" him talking to Barney about knowing who had Catherine Martin. Chilton played into his hands so beautifully. Things went just as planned especially with his request to only tell Senator Martin the information in Memphis. Things were executed perfectly, everything had gone very well, indeed.

Finding Lloyd Wyman (getting a suitcase from the trunk of his car in a deserted aisle at the underground garage of the Memphis International Airport) was another opportunity not to be missed. With a little "help" from the doctor, Wyman joined his suitcase and Lecter had a new identity and transportation. Driving around in an ambulance was a bit too conspicuous.

It took him five hours to get to St. Louis, after he had obtained the money and credentials hidden in the wall of a cottage by the Susquehanna River. A trip to his memory palace provided him with the perfect location to alter his features and make his plans to get out of the country. He decided to stay at a hotel across the street from a hospital that housed one of the foremost centers for craniofacial surgery, a hotel he had stayed at, years ago, while doing research. His bandaged face was not out of place here, other patients enjoyed the convenience of the hotel's proximity to the hospital.

It was only then that he had the opportunity to read the two letters Barney had given him:

Dear Dr. Lecter,

Hi, my name is Mercedes Anne Jones and I am 5 years old. My birthdate is March 16, 1983. Please take note of this fact for it has a significance in what I'm about to ask you.

Did you know a woman called Rachel? That is the name I found in my file. She gave birth to me at the Community Memorial Hospital in Chicago and then abandoned me there. I have been staying at an orphanage called The Children's Home of Chicago.

I have black, wavy hair, purple eyes with red-violet in them and six fingers on my left hand. I am also very intelligent, these factors make me believe we may be related.

The timing is also right. I would have been conceived before your trial which is very likely why Rachel would have wanted to abandon me. Some people just don't have any fortitude. Maybe she was one of those snobby types who can't abide having any skeletons in their closets or cannibals in their lives.

If there is any possibility that you may be my father, please write to me and let me know. I'm still "in the system" because many around me think I am or might be your daughter. Actually, I would be very honored and happy to be your daughter. I realize a paternity test would be needed to verify if it's a yes or no, assuming that you knew a Rachel, if that was even her real name that she told the nurse who named me. The nurse had been wanting a luxury car so she thought Mercedes would be a good name for me. I like people to call me Sadie. Please, don't call me Mercy, I really don't like that.

I "obtained" a post office box so I could be sure that I'd get your letter. I don't know how long I'll have it so you'll need to answer this as soon as possible.

Thank you,

Sadie

That was the first letter, going by the date on the envelope. The second one was dated a month later.

Dear Dr. Lecter,

I don't know how things are there, where you are, but I do hope you received my first letter. Since I haven't received a letter from you, I've been wondering. I'll just repeat a few pertinent facts here, just in case.

My name is Mercedes (Sadie) Anne Jones, but not really Jones because the woman who gave birth to me on March 16, 1983, only gave her first name, Rachel, to the nurse who ended up naming me. Rachel left the Community Memorial Hospital the next day, and I've been living in an orphanage called The Children's Home of Chicago. I have the rarest form of polydactylism, identical to yours and a high I.Q., another trait I may have inherited from you. Many people think you may be my father. I am inclined to agree. I know a paternity test would be needed to make it definite but I'm hoping you'll let me know if there's even a possibility that I may be your daughter. 

You can mail me at the post office box, I included at the end of this letter, but I don't know how long I'll have it so please write back as soon as possible. If I don't hear from you, this will be my last letter. I don't want you to feel obligated or think I'm a pest, I just wanted you to know that you might have a daughter.

Something I didn't tell you in my first letter, there was another possible person who could be my father, Peter Daniels, an accountant in Michigan, who is married to a woman named Sarah and has two children. What I have found amusing is that whether Peter Daniels (very unlikely) or you (much more likely) are my father, both your last names give me a very interesting acronym: M.A.D. or M.A.L. which means bad - so I'd be mad or bad (in the good sense), just like when someone says, "That's wicked," they're really saying, "That's cool!" When something is "bad" it is "really good." I know this sounds confusing, but as a psychiatrist, I believe you know the way things are with the youth of today.

I plan on graduating high school in two years by taking the G.E.D. test. I'm learning and studying independently for this since I am forced to attend Kindergarten where the other five year olds are learning their A, B, C's and 1, 2, 3's. It's so boring!!! Miss Jenkins, the Home Director, says it wouldn't be "normal" for me to be in another grade since so many other things are already "not normal," and we must not encourage or give anyone wrong ideas in relation to another that we shall not name (you, Dr. Lecter). Last, but not least, we don't have it in the budget to finance something like this. It is in your best interest that you remain with your own age group...she does go on and on about things, Dr. Lecter.

This is just a little of what I must deal with. I think you'd understand and let me advance at my own speed, even encourage it. You're not afraid to be different like so many around us are. Having a left hand with six fingers hasn't helped either, that only adds to the speculation about you and me.

I have to admit, Dr. Lecter, that I have encouraged that. I hope you don't mind. It's just so amusing to see how gullible people can be and fun too.

There was the time I put a plastic bag, filled with water and ketchup, in the meatloaf before it was brought to the table so when it was being cut, red juice squirted out like it was bleeding. I acted very excited about it, wanting to have the first piece of the "murdered meatloaf." Yes, that's what I called it. Of course, it was attributed to "who my father was." This also makes me feel like I do, indeed, have a father, more than just a "genetic contribution" of some unknown male.

Your potential daughter,

Sadie

Lecter, at turns, laughed out loud and was silent as he read the letters. The waiter had interrupted him while reading the first letter. The second letter was read after his dinner. Travis had also served breakfast and lunch that day, Hannibal wondered if he'd see him tomorrow. Hannibal had, for the most part, just slept and ate this first day of being free. Now, feeling refreshed and rested, and after having read the letters, his mind returned to the time before he was discovered by Will Graham.

He did know a woman named Rachel, who he had been seeing before his capture and trial. He knew Rachel had a sister who lived in Chicago. Yes, the facts did add up to present a distinct possibility that he may have a child, a daughter named Mercedes. Dr. Lecter sighed, he definitely wouldn't have named his daughter after a car, luxury or not! He also may have a daughter who never received a letter from him...three years that he could have had, already having missed the first five years of her life. Chilton had even more to pay for! That had been one of the items on his "to do" list: to pay a visit to Dr. Chilton and have him wish he was dead until he was dead. Perhaps, he'll carve some "letters' into Chilton's body, while he was still alive, for the crime of withholding his letters and as a result, his daughter. Chilton would pay for all the petty punishments, the disrespect, the subtle cruelties, the deprivations and indignities he suffered under Dr. Chilton's "care."

"I'll take care of you," Hannibal thought with a gleeful anticipation, "But first, I have a possible daughter to see to after my appearance has been altered sufficiently." Lecter would have been hard-pressed as to which thought elated him more: both were so appealing!


	3. Family Reunion

****

Only the Beginning

Part Three - Family Reunion

Five days later, Hannibal looked in the mirror with satisfaction. The facial enhancements and the hair dye had been successful in altering his appearance enough that he could now move around more freely. During this time, he had done some research on his daughter: looking in her records from the hospital, the orphanage and the school she was attending. He was even able to obtain a fairly recent photo of her from the records at her school, and had an I.D. and passport made up for her. Computers were so useful, with them, the world was at his fingertips. What a person could do with the push of a few buttons. What he could have done if he had access to a computer while imprisoned. This was so much better: free and with such a delightful tool! The tidbits he had learned about Sadie only whetted his appetite. He was even more convinced that she was his daughter. The records were woefully inadequate, especially the ones from the orphanage. It appeared that CHC was at least a decade behind in their use of the computer, probably had most of their files on paper stored in cabinets. Only the financial records were more up-to-date, and Hannibal wasn't impressed.

There were a couple of knocks on his door, Hannibal looked at the clock: 11:45 p.m. He doubted Travis, or those of his ilk, would show up at his door without any orders for room service, so who would be at his door at this time of night? He looked through the peephole and didn't see anyone. Another knock - this had better not be a trap or a prank. He would definitely teach the perpetrator a lesson if it were. Lecter had his favorite knife, a harpy, easily and quickly accessible, up his right sleeve - another item he had picked up along with his money and credentials. This had been one of the essentials.

"Hello?" a young voice called out softly but Hannibal heard it. He opened the door and looked down at a girl he immediately recognized as Mercedes Anne Jones. Astonishment flickered briefly as red sparks in his maroon eyes and he quickly moved aside and said, "Come in. You have a bit of explaining to do."

"You know who I am?" Sadie asked. She was tired and hungry. Getting here hadn't been easy.

"Do you know who I am?" Hannibal asked as he closed the door and locked it.

Sadie heard the sound of the lock being engaged and hoped she hadn't made any miscalculations. "I'm sorry about the hour. The only non-stop bus available left at four and I had to walk from the bus depot. I made sure I left no trail so no one would find us." Sadie hoped that information wouldn't backfire on her but she didn't want Dr. Lecter thinking she might have led anyone right to him. She just stood there, briefly noticing the large, elegant room beyond the foyer they were in. Definitely not something she was used to.

Hannibal looked down at the young girl who stood before him. With a hood covering up her hair and the blue coat being at least two sizes too big; he could only see large, anxious purple eyes and a fatigued, pale face. She was quite a beautiful child but other things mattered more in his estimation.

"I know who you are, and by your statement, you know my identity. How did you find me?" Hannibal was still astonished that this child, even if she was his, had been able to find him. He had been planning on getting her in Chicago.

"I kept thinking that your face would be displayed in the papers and on t.v. so you would need to go where you could blend in while making changes in your appearance. I didn't think you'd actually go to a hospital, but I thought that maybe you would stay near a facility that specialized in facial reconstruction. I went on the internet and it listed the Myron and Sadie Fleischer Pavilion (I thought that was kind of neat having my name as part of it) of the St. Louis City Hospital as a foremost center. Two other factors contributed to this being a logical destination: one, it was only five hours away by car and two, you had been in this city when you did research. In an article you wrote for the Psychiatric Journal, you made a reference to the Robert J. Brockman Memorial Library."

Impressed, Hannibal held out a hand and gestured for Sadie to remove her coat and hand it to him. "And this hotel?"

Sadie first removed the bulky backpack and then, as she threw the hood back and unzipped the coat, she continued, "I figured you wouldn't want to stay at a hotel with small rooms, not after your eight years in a cell, so I kept that in mind when I looked at the hotels nearby the hospital and this one seemed to be the most likely one."

"My assumed name?" Hannibal took the coat and hung it in the closet.

"I estimated that you may have had to take care of some things, obtain a car, then make the drive, putting your arrival here between 3-6 a.m. I accessed the hotel's registration and saw that three parties came during that time. Only one was a single male, Lloyd Wyman, who just happened to be from Tennessee. At least, the real one was."

"Let's continue this in the other room. Would you care for something to eat or drink?"

Hannibal led her to a comfortable couch that had large pillows on each end. It looked good enough to sleep on, Sadie's body wholeheartedly agreed with this assessment and her stomach was growling at the notion of being fed. "Yes, please. My last meal was lunch and I only had the few snacks Latisha gave me for the trip." 

Hannibal brought a fruit bowl over to Sadie. She looked at the assortment. 

There were a couple of things she didn't recognize, she stayed away from those. Sadie finally chose a large, red apple and began to eat. Her backpack was on the floor by the end of the couch where she was sitting. She looked at the man who might be her father and wondered how long he had known about her. He only seemed surprised to see her here and hadn't questioned her identity.

Hannibal sat across from Sadie and was studying her also. He saw a look that contained questions and a little hurt in them. Figuring out what her eyes were saying (they were indeed windows of the soul) he told her softly, "I only read the letters you sent five days ago, here in this room. I would have contacted you if I had received them three years ago."

Sadie turned her face away from his. He seemed to see so much and she didn't want him to see how this was affecting her. She was hungry, tired, missing Latisha, and overwhelmed by the fact that she was actually here, with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, who might be her father. The questions that needed to be asked and answered had helped with the first few minutes of her arrival, but now what? Sadie had questions of her own, the ones that were most important were not being asked because she was trying to hold back the tears that were filling her eyes. "That sure didn't take long," she thought. Sadie didn't hear Hannibal leave the chair and walk over to the couch. She did feel him sit beside her and stiffened.

"I believe you know why I immediately asked you those questions and I know you have questions that you want answered. Look at me," Hannibal said as he turned his body so that he could see her, face-to-face when she would turn it towards him.

"I think it's better, at this time, if I don't." Sadie kept her face hidden, the tears had won and they were running down her face.

"You don't want me to see you crying." It wasn't a question and it sounded so understanding, even gentle, that the tears flowed even harder.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You've been through a lot emotionally, mentally and physically - it is a perfectly natural response you are not to apologize for. Would you say, 'I'm sorry,' for breathing?"

"No," was accompanied by a couple of sniffs. Hannibal held a large, maroon handkerchief in front of Sadie. Six fingers took it from his own similar hand. As she wiped her face and nose, his right arm and hand went around her other side and turned her body until Sadie found herself against his chest, her face pressed into his shirt.

"I don't want to ruin your shirt," Sadie protested, her voice muffled. Hannibal was stroking her long, black hair which went down to her waist. Her hair had soft curls and waves and his hand, running down its length, felt good.

"Consider it a baptism of sorts. I put you in this position, it was my decision; so, once again, you are concerned over something you shouldn't be. Now, I'll talk and you listen." Sadie nodded with her face still pressed against the front of his shirt. The tears were slowing down. "Yes, I had been seeing a woman named Rachel before my trial. She also had a sister in Chicago, so I would say your conclusions are accurate. I am delighted to find that I have a daughter and was planning on going to Chicago tomorrow to meet you. One of the many ways the administrator, Dr. Chilton, used to get at me was to withhold my mail. An orderly discovered your letters buried in a closet and gave them to me as I was about to be transferred to Memphis. Now, who will be missing you and what precautions did you take in getting here without anyone's knowledge?"

"Well, Miss Jenkins at the orphanage. Latisha's family will probably be the most upset since I was spending the weekend with them. I left a note saying I was running away under the blankets of my bed at CHC. I figured it would be a couple of days, at least, til they discover it there. Last night, Latisha and I went online to see the bus schedule. She's 16, so her parents didn't worry about us going out together. The bus depot was only three miles away. Latisha wore a coat taken from a Salvation Army bin and hid her face from the security camera when she purchased the ticket. I was waiting in the bathroom. She gave me the ticket and a blue coat she had outgrown, hidden in her backpack. I buried the red coat I was wearing in a large garbage can. I had no trouble boarding the bus and getting here. Latisha was to tell her parents that I went back to CHC because I wasn't feeling well and just wanted to go to bed."

"The main bus depot is around 8 miles from here," Hannibal pointed out, still stroking her hair.

"I printed up a map so I wouldn't get lost," Sadie answered, she was losing the battle of keeping her eyes open and just left them closed.

Hannibal inhaled deeply and let his breath out slowly. He could feel Sadie relaxing against him and knew she was falling asleep. He was very impressed with her reasoning and intuitive abilities; however, he didn't like some of the risks she had taken. Sadie would have him to take care of her now. He went over everything that was said and done, and all he had learned these last five days. Somewhat to his surprise, Lecter found that a bond had formed for Sadie that he hadn't known since his sister. He knew Sadie wasn't Mischa but the feelings he had then: the joy, love, fierce protectiveness, possessiveness and tenderness were all welling up from deep inside of him. The focus for all those emotions was now sleeping quietly in his arms, which tightened slightly, relaxing as he held her close. Even though he still planned on paying a visit to Chilton, he now knew what satisfied him the most, and given the choice, which he would choose.

****

The End (but just like the title says, only the beginning)

Author's note: I'm already working on a sequel called Scents and Sensibility.


End file.
